ROBIN TOUJOURS: Hope Is The Thing With Feathers

“Hope” is the thing with feathers.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

*****

I have had the most difficult week.

Larry and I learned over the past week,

that three of our friends have passed away.

Where do I put these feelings of loss?

What do I say to the ones left behind, missing their loved ones so dearly?

It is Friday and Larry is home from his business trip.

The Cottage has "Larry sounds" once more.

I can go back to his office and apologize for interrupting,

while sharing an observation or funny story.

It is sunny outside and I am dressed for whatever may happen today.

A walk at the lake? Grocery shopping? Starting a new canvas?

Lynn, You are in my thoughts.

Joseph, I am sorry for your loss

and

Lorie, I just learned of Dale's death. You are in our prayers.

Love you beyond the moon.

ROBIN TOUJOURS